We're In Love Because We're Punk
The Ghetto-Teenie
Billie Joe leaned in to give me the world's punkest kiss and said to me, "You are the punkest, most beautiful girl I've ever met." My punk heart started to beat faster. He told me that Sweet Children (the name of that oh so punk band) had to finish up band practice and that he would pick me up at five o clock to go to the Gilman.
"Don't worry," I said haughtily, "I know where it is. After all, I'm a punk."
"Of course you are, Carly," said Billie Joe, kissing me again. "You'll fit right in at the Gilman." After that, I went home, feeling punker than ever. I had lots of homework today on my very first day of school here, but I didn't do any of it, because I'm a punk. Punks don't do homework. My mother came into my room to treat me like shit again.
"Carly, dear?" she asked, obviously sneering at me, "Do you need any help with your homework? I know its your first day here, so you must have a lot of catching up to do." I glared at her
"No way. Punks don't do homework. You should be ashamed to call yourself my mother," I spat at her. She flinched.
"Well, thats okay, dear" she said, acting like she didn't hear me. "Here, I baked some cookies and here's some milk to drink with them." She left the room to think of more ways to torture me. Milk and fresh chocolate chip cookies? As if. Punks do not like milk and fresh chocolate chip...okay, maybe we do. Cookies are pretty punk, right? Not caring, because I'm punk, I ate the cookies and drank the milk.
Five o clock rolled around. I could barely wait to go to the Gilman. I threw on some of my punkest clothes (a black one-sleeved tee shirt, an uneven black skirt, and my black converses,) I put on some punk make-up (raccoon-ifying eyeliner and dark lipgloss), I headed downstairs.
I ran into my sister along the way. Nora was so annoying all the time. "What's with the whole goth theme?" she asked. I rolled my eyes.
"Punk, Nora. It's punk. I'm dressed like a punk because I'm punk. Got it? Now, get out of my way. I have to go to the Gilman." I said. I didn't really care what she thought of my clothes because I'm punk.
"Gilman? Carly, isn't that like, five blocks away?" she asked, acting as though a person as unpunk as her would know anything about the Gilman. "We both have a ton of homework to do." I gave her the punk finger and continued down the stairs. Homework? What a prep.
***
Nora was right. The Gilman was five blocks away. However, I managed to get there on time because I'm punk. (Translate : Abandoning my punk principles, I slept with some guy who had a car so he would drive me there.)
I got there and spotted Billie Joe right away. Obviously, he was the punkest, hawtest boy there. "Hey!" I called out to him. He heard my punk voice and came to me right away.
"Carly, hi!" he said, taking my hand. "How did you get here?" he asked.
"I walked," I said with punk pride. Billie Joe looked amazed.
"You walked? But we live more than five blocks away from here." he said.
"I'm punk." I said. That was the only answer that Billie needed. He took me over to where some other band was playing.
"Have you ever been here before?" he asked me. I shook my head. Even though I was a punk, I just moved here, so I didn't have time to come to the Gilman. "Well," he said, "You're in for a real treat."
As another band started to play, my punk attention was whipped away from the music. I heard the most unpunk voice ever. Even though it came from a few yards away, I could hear it because I'm punk.
"Hey, yo!" I heard. I turned around to see a dark skinned, dark haired girl hi-fiving someone. She was dressed in white and light blue (I'm tired of the nemesis prep always wearing pink. She wears light blue in this story. Deal with it.) from head to toe. She strutted over to Billie Joe and threw her arms around him.
"Hey, hun!" she kissed him on the cheek. "I thought ya'll was gon' come here without me and I was like 'nuh-uh, bizotches'." she said, snapping her fingers in the air. "So, who's ya' friend?" she asked pointing at me.
Billie gulped in a nervous-punk way. "Um, this is Carly," he said. "She's new to our school." The other girl held out her hand for me to shake.
"Hey Carly! How ya'll doin'? I hope my man, BJ's been showin' ya'll the good things here." Her man? This was so not punk. I turned to Billie Joe for some kind of explanation.
Billie Joe punkishly stuttered, "Carly, this is my girlfriend Tanisha."
"Don't worry," I said haughtily, "I know where it is. After all, I'm a punk."
"Of course you are, Carly," said Billie Joe, kissing me again. "You'll fit right in at the Gilman." After that, I went home, feeling punker than ever. I had lots of homework today on my very first day of school here, but I didn't do any of it, because I'm a punk. Punks don't do homework. My mother came into my room to treat me like shit again.
"Carly, dear?" she asked, obviously sneering at me, "Do you need any help with your homework? I know its your first day here, so you must have a lot of catching up to do." I glared at her
"No way. Punks don't do homework. You should be ashamed to call yourself my mother," I spat at her. She flinched.
"Well, thats okay, dear" she said, acting like she didn't hear me. "Here, I baked some cookies and here's some milk to drink with them." She left the room to think of more ways to torture me. Milk and fresh chocolate chip cookies? As if. Punks do not like milk and fresh chocolate chip...okay, maybe we do. Cookies are pretty punk, right? Not caring, because I'm punk, I ate the cookies and drank the milk.
Five o clock rolled around. I could barely wait to go to the Gilman. I threw on some of my punkest clothes (a black one-sleeved tee shirt, an uneven black skirt, and my black converses,) I put on some punk make-up (raccoon-ifying eyeliner and dark lipgloss), I headed downstairs.
I ran into my sister along the way. Nora was so annoying all the time. "What's with the whole goth theme?" she asked. I rolled my eyes.
"Punk, Nora. It's punk. I'm dressed like a punk because I'm punk. Got it? Now, get out of my way. I have to go to the Gilman." I said. I didn't really care what she thought of my clothes because I'm punk.
"Gilman? Carly, isn't that like, five blocks away?" she asked, acting as though a person as unpunk as her would know anything about the Gilman. "We both have a ton of homework to do." I gave her the punk finger and continued down the stairs. Homework? What a prep.
***
Nora was right. The Gilman was five blocks away. However, I managed to get there on time because I'm punk. (Translate : Abandoning my punk principles, I slept with some guy who had a car so he would drive me there.)
I got there and spotted Billie Joe right away. Obviously, he was the punkest, hawtest boy there. "Hey!" I called out to him. He heard my punk voice and came to me right away.
"Carly, hi!" he said, taking my hand. "How did you get here?" he asked.
"I walked," I said with punk pride. Billie Joe looked amazed.
"You walked? But we live more than five blocks away from here." he said.
"I'm punk." I said. That was the only answer that Billie needed. He took me over to where some other band was playing.
"Have you ever been here before?" he asked me. I shook my head. Even though I was a punk, I just moved here, so I didn't have time to come to the Gilman. "Well," he said, "You're in for a real treat."
As another band started to play, my punk attention was whipped away from the music. I heard the most unpunk voice ever. Even though it came from a few yards away, I could hear it because I'm punk.
"Hey, yo!" I heard. I turned around to see a dark skinned, dark haired girl hi-fiving someone. She was dressed in white and light blue (I'm tired of the nemesis prep always wearing pink. She wears light blue in this story. Deal with it.) from head to toe. She strutted over to Billie Joe and threw her arms around him.
"Hey, hun!" she kissed him on the cheek. "I thought ya'll was gon' come here without me and I was like 'nuh-uh, bizotches'." she said, snapping her fingers in the air. "So, who's ya' friend?" she asked pointing at me.
Billie gulped in a nervous-punk way. "Um, this is Carly," he said. "She's new to our school." The other girl held out her hand for me to shake.
"Hey Carly! How ya'll doin'? I hope my man, BJ's been showin' ya'll the good things here." Her man? This was so not punk. I turned to Billie Joe for some kind of explanation.
Billie Joe punkishly stuttered, "Carly, this is my girlfriend Tanisha."